


gifts💝

by sonshineandshowers



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Trauma, mild sex references, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26275552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers
Summary: A couple days after encountering a trigger, Gil helps Malcolm work up to getting out of bed with a little extra help from Sunshine.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	gifts💝

Gil pads through the kitchen, slowly working his way to the bedroom so as not to jostle his precious cargo. "Kid, someone wants to say ‘hi,’” he says, lowering his hand to the bed.

Malcolm’s exhausted eyes finally stretch open as feathers brush against his cheek, a full side of bird nuzzling against his face. Gil is counting on Sunshine being the only one able to rouse his partner from the unrelenting hold of the bed.

“Hi, Sunshine,” Malcolm mumbles, a lazy index finger emerging to scratch her head. She play pecks it and rubs it back.

“Someone needs food,” Gil says, kneeling beside the bed and resting his hand on Malcolm’s hip, tracing a soothing pattern with his thumb. He doesn’t mention that someone is Malcolm. Whoever gets up first typically feeds Sunshine — she’s already taken care of.

“Can you get the mirror?” Malcolm asks.

The small hand mirror from the bureau beside the entryway has flecks of spots from Sunshine giving it kisses and rubbing herself against the glass. The wood trim around the glass is worn from their playing, the handle undisturbed because it is protected by their hands when they use it. Gil holds it out to Malcolm, but Malcolm says, “You do it.”

Kneeling on the floor again, Gil rests the mirror at the edge of the bed, between him and Malcolm. Sunshine shifts a little, hopping over to inspect herself in the glass. Gil watches Malcolm’s face around the side of the mirror, seeing a slight hint of a smile quirk the corner of his mouth as Sunshine pecks at her reflection and the wood and chirps at herself.

At this distance, Malcolm can watch her, appreciate her movement, look at the feathers that are her namesake. Gil knows Malcolm’s favorite times are playing with her — he hopes that this morning will be no different. Some of the lightest moments Gil has had in the loft have been quietly looking after the two of them playing overtop of his book while reading in the corner. He suspects Malcolm knows of the silent observer, but Malcolm has never called him out on it.

“Do the wiggle for her,” Malcolm requests.

“Why don’t you do it?”

“I want to watch you two.”

Gil wiggles his fingers near the edge of the mirror and eventually draws Sunshine's attention enough so she hops on them like a perch. Feathers ruffling out, he gets a flap or two while she plays on his lightly bobbing fingers. “Say ‘hi’ to Bright.” He brings her a little closer to Malcolm then further away again. “Say ‘hi’ to Bright.”

Sunshine jumps off his fingers and flaps to beside Malcolm’s face again, burrowing between the kid’s cheek and the sheets. She appears to have found a resting spot for the time being, but Gil knows it won’t last long — she’ll probably head flying across the loft at any moment.

Stowing the mirror on the nightstand, Gil rubs Malcolm’s hip through the sheet. “Think you can get out of bed, kid?” There isn’t a demand or forcing him to take the action — only positive encouragement.

Malcolm meets his eyes. "I don’t want to make you late. You should go.”

“I'm not going to be late. I'll get there when I get there. Was the weekend enough rest? Do you think you’re up for coming with me today?” Gil reads Malcolm's face for any signs of discomfort. He wants to offer his partner the biggest thing he enjoys, but he also doesn't want to push. Making dinner Friday had brought the daze in Malcolm's eyes of glimpsing a memory, the chef's knife in his hands clattering to the floor and triggering a flight response, first cowering in the bathtub for hours, then burrowing in bed in the wee hours of the morning for what turned into the whole weekend. He'd been a lot more communicative on Sunday, enough to call his therapist and talk through what was going on, but not enough to move very much. It wrenched Gil's gut to watch, unable to substantially help.

Malcolm idly strokes Sunshine, soothing himself by petting his bird friend. He’s calmer when she’s with him, better able to think about caring for himself when he also has another to look after. She happily flew over and cuddled with him all weekend, but he hadn't felt up to standing with her at the windowsill or beside her cage.

“You okay with her for a minute?” Gil asks, standing at Malcolm’s nod. “I realized I have something that might help,” he explains as he walks away. “I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but if you can get use out of it now…” he trails off as he heads upstairs, knowing Malcolm won’t be able to hear him anymore.

It takes a moment to retrieve the box from the office and a few minutes to setup its contents in the large bird cage in the spare room that Sunshine enjoys when they’re away from home. Heading back downstairs, he asks, “Can I use your phone for a sec?”

Malcolm’s eyes look up from Sunshine with a slight questioning gaze, but he says, “Yes.”

It takes Gil a few minutes to download an app and get it setup to his satisfaction. Once he’s happy with the results, he turns the phone to Malcolm. “It’s mounted to the outside of the cage so she can’t get into it, but you can check in on her. You can move the camera.” He demonstrates by pressing a button on screen. “And you can rock this hemp swing a little if she wants to play with you.” He taps another button and they watch a gradual sway in the corner of the screen.

“You did that for me?” Malcolm asks, big eyes looking up at Gil.

“She may not be an officially documented emotional support animal, but I know she helps you, kid. Happy Monday," Gil offers in place of the gift's original intent. Malcolm’s eyes water, and Gil worries he’s done the wrong thing. “If you don’t like it, I — “

“No-one’s-ever-done-something-like-that-for-me,” comes rushing out of Malcolm’s mouth. “It’s — thank you — it’s — “

Sunshine flies toward the living room, making a stop on the floor near the stools in the kitchen. Gil takes the opportunity to sit on the edge of the bed and cup his partner’s cheek.

“It’s perfect, Gil,” Malcolm says, taking his phone back from Gil’s hands and playing with the controls himself. After exploring the options, he clicks the screen off and uses his arms to latch on to Gil’s waist and pull his head into Gil’s lap. He sighs, and Gil rubs his back. “I might not be able to do the full day,” he says toward Gil’s knees.

Thinking Malcolm is considering going in, Gil offers, "It’s okay. You’ve got my office if you need a break, and if you want to go home, just say the word.” He pets his hair.

“I’m sorry this is so tough this time. I ruined your weekend, I — “

Gil cuts off Malcolm's sudden worry before it can go any further. "You _never_ need to apologize for your health. I just want to help.”

“How gross am I?”

“Five, six." His hair's a little greasy, face in need of a good scrub, but he doesn't really smell that much. "It’s been worse. You going to go for a fuller beard? I kind of like it.” Gil runs his fingers over the longer hair along Malcolm’s jawline.

“No. It reminds me of being sad.”

“Away it goes, then.” Gil braves asking, “Is there anything else like that?”

“No music for right now. I — I’ll let you know if there’s something else.”

“Okay.”

“Can you get Sunshine tucked in? I’ll shower and try to get ready as quick as I can.” Malcolm sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed beside Gil.

“Sure, kid.” Gil wraps an arm around him and kisses his temple. “Take your time.”

On the drive to the precinct, Malcolm doesn’t stop looking at his phone, watching his feathered friend through the small screen as she roosts on a piece of wood in her cage. The fingers of his other hand are buried in his pocket. Gil looks over him when he stops at a light. “How is it?” he asks.

“Three, four.”

Gil interprets the reading of his anxiousness. “Not bad.”

“Not bad.” Malcolm’s attention doesn’t stray from his phone screen. “How did you find this?”

The light changes, so Gil accelerates. "Walking through the mall. One of those boutique stores."

"Gil, no one goes to the mall."

" _You_ don't go to the mall." Gil chuckles. "And that's how I found this first."

"It's perfect."

"I'm glad you like it." Gil always has a hard time deciding what to gift Malcolm because the kid can buy himself anything. When he finds the right item, it's _the thing_ , but it takes awhile to get there. He's pleased that this time, his partner's absolutely enraptured by the offering.

"Do you think Sunshine could have her own Twitch channel? Interact with viewers for charity? Might be hard to explain to my mother, but — "

Gil's mind jumps as it attempts to figure out where the conversation is going. "Kid — "

Malcolm rattles on, locked on something Gil hasn't figured out. "Now that I think about it, this isn't that much different from a webcam. Do you want to try cam sex sometime? You could go upstairs and — "

"Bright — " Gil warns, the topic not top of mind at the moment.

"Sorry, got a little ahead of myself."

"We're not using your bird cam for sex."

"I didn't mean _that_ camera," Malcolm covers, looking over at Gil, and Gil steals a quick glance.

Malcolm's ability to bounce topics still leaves Gil catching up even after years of knowing each other. "Can we talk about it later at home?"

"Sure," Malcolm agrees and quickly presses on, "I'm telling you, the Twitch channel's a good idea. Look at how cute she is." His phone gets pushed in Gil's face when they stop at another light.

Gil pulls back a little to see what's on the screen. "Yes, she's cute, Bright."

"Five, okay? Five." Malcolm's words come out quickly, a little flustered.

Reaching over to squeeze the kid's knee, Gil assures, "You're okay. I'm not frustrated — just confused. I'm having a hard time keeping up with you."

"First time out of the loft in a few days." Malcolm looks out the window, his fingers shifting in his pocket like he would scratch at his skin if he could.

"Use my office," Gil reiterates. Though he knows a day at work will do Malcolm good, he can't help but wonder if maybe he should have let one more day go by before extending the offer.

"What am I possibly going to give you to top this?"

"You are enough," Gil easily responds. He doesn't need anything. If he wants something, he can buy it. Having Malcolm to spend the day with, come home and relax with — that's what's important to him.

"You sound like my therapist."

"It's true. I have you."

"But you could have cam sex..."

" _Bright_." Gil moves to pull his hand away, but Malcolm rests his hand on top of it.

"I'm teasing." The kid smirks.

"What am I going to do with you?" Gil teases back, melodramatically exaggerating his syllables.

"Thank you."

Gil has no idea whether Malcolm is talking about Sunshine-cam, helping him out of bed, or merely being there. Given the progress, it doesn't matter to him — he'll take any scenario as a win, even if they only make it into the precinct just to leave again. He's learned the value of attempts as well as successes. The importance of Malcolm's health before anything else.

"You're the only person who's ever seen all of me as me. Thank you." Malcolm is still looking out the window. His voice quiet, his words would've escaped hearing had the window been down.

In the car, Gil can't pull Malcolm into the hug that he wants, can't pepper his hair with kisses and nonsense demonstrating their togetherness is a safe space. And maybe that's the point — maybe Malcolm can't take a hug right now and go to work. Maybe he knows working a case will require emotional labor that will fully deplete his lessened energy store, but he wants to be able to do it because it brings him joy, purpose. Maybe putting himself first means needing to wait for a hug until they get home.

Gil can wait. The words alone are something he's never heard and fill his chest with emotions he can't quite place. When he says, "You're welcome, city boy," even he can hear those feelings saturate his voice.

They'll talk about it later, at home, curled in a corner of the couch or stuffed into an armchair. Hopefully by then, Malcolm will forget about the webcam or come with a really interesting way to use it. He wouldn't mind closed-circuit something if it means getting to edge him on for a couple hours at some point in the future, as long as he can hold his partner afterward. The after, the being together, is the greatest gift.

* * *

_fin_


End file.
